


Running From Silver Faces

by Solstarin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending Probably, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of one-shots and drabbles from my chapter fic, Running From Silver Faces, written instead for a reader :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read a version replacing all Y/N instances with a name, my tumblr page (causticintention.tumblr.com) will have them posted there as they are posted here. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Apologies if it feels jumbled; I'm terribly fond of starting things in medias res, so though it may not make sense now, it will later :)

“Ben...”

A soft voice faded in as he awoke.

“Ben.”

Silence. He was too tired for this. “Beeeennnn...”

The pad of a finger skimmed the hollow of his cheek. “Ben Solo.”

A bird twittered somewhere. “Benjamin Solo.”

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and shook. “Hey. tall, dark, and handsome.”

He opened his eyes, brow furrowed against the light. His head lifted to see Y/N standing before him, her navy blue hair pulled over one shoulder. One dark, perfectly manicured eyebrow was curved over her eye, the other hidden beneath her bangs.

“You fell asleep again,” she informed him. He grinned and shifted in his seat against the wall. 

He watched as she fell back into her own chair, the book she was reading still grasped loosely in her fingers. Even at seventeen she was strikingly beautiful; skin flawless save for small scars from mishaps through training, face perfectly proportioned around doll-like lips and crystal eyes. This could be blamed on her parentage; her mother was Zeltron, and they were known intergalactically for their intensely good looks. Her body was lithe and strong, and even as she settled into a seat in her own quarters her muscles rippled. 

“What did you learn about lightsaber dynamics?” she asked, her real voice cutting through his reverie. 

“That it sounds terribly interesting when you’re reading about it.” 

Her head fell forward to the hardcover of her book, and she hit her forehead against it with a groan. “So terribly interesting that you fell asleep? For the second time?”

“You are soothing.” 

She peered at him from over the top of the silvery-blue book. “I won’t be soothing when you’re on your own on Ilum, trying to figure out what to do because you didn’t listen to a damn thing I said,” she retorted. 

“You’re an empath, isn’t that what you do?”

“I’m not telepathic, Ben. Best I can do is feel stuff.” She opened the tome in her hands and flicked a couple aged pages.

The book was ancient, but phenomenally well-preserved. It was supposedly the last surviving copy of its kind, through years of war and rebellion. The silver Knights’ symbol and the words The Jedi Path were well-worn, but still discernable. It had been passed from Jedi to Jedi for centuries, until it came to his Uncle Luke. Y/N , ever the one craving knowledge, had instantly become intensely interested in it, and somehow weaseled it out of him. She swore she didn’t use any of her natural-born ability to project emotions upon another being to her favor, but Ben didn’t believe it. Noble as she was, she would go to great lengths to learn, and the older and richer the knowledge, the better.

Nevertheless, she’d been pouring over it for days, barely being parted with it to sleep. By now she’d read through it at least half a dozen times, and she was trying to impart some of its wisdom upon himself. He’d been trying to pay attention, really, but her voice was so calming that even as she explained lightsaber variants and the Forms of combat they aligned best with he found himself closing his eyes. 

“Have you even learned anything today?” she admonished. A smile split his lips. 

“Sure. I’ve learned your voice is absolutely entrancing.”

Y/N stood up with a long, exasperated sigh, and put the book back in its designed metal casing, pushing down the raising platform and closing the sides with care. The case was virtually the only thing on the shelf that held it; she had a couple notebooks stacked against the wall on one end, and a small, ornate box from her homeworld, but otherwise nothing. The life of a Jedi, even a padawan, was one of sacrifice and valuing service over self. Their quarters were simple, as were their robes. Arguably, from the outside, they lived simple lives. 

Ben let his eyes wander shamelessly over the halfling. She was, after all, as close to his as she could get. Though Jedi were not, according to the ancient code that they had committed themselves to, allowed to form romantic attachment to any other living being, years of existence had brought the precept under scrutiny. Y/N had taken a particular interest in and read to him Master Qui-Gon Ginn’s notes on the subject, scribbled into the margins of the pages, that because the living force and the Jedi pillars encouraged compassion and eventually even love, being in that state of emotion was not a detriment to a Jedi Knight, despite what the code said. His uncle Luke had agreed with this and assured his students that he would not punish them if they should happen to fall in love, so long as it didn’t negatively affect their training or overall health. 

It was the half-Zeltron half-human with whom he had fallen. It was never a sudden thing; he was doubtful at the least that the notion of love at first sight even existed. Moreover it was something that slowly weakened his resolve until he found himself unable to fill his mind with much other than her-- even the calmness meditation brought was virtually unobtainable. 

Eventually, the universe decided it was tired of waiting and threw them together. 

It was actually far less interesting than that-- Ben was being teased again by some other padawans for his ears, which were, at the time, much less proportionate to the rest of him than they had become. He had pretended not to hear any of it, as they were a couple paces away and jeering at him. She had intervened and bit back at the boys with such ferocity that it surprised him. It had also surprised her Master, who had come to reprimand her, albeit gently, against her actions. She had genuinely apologized, reasoning that it just wasn’t fair that they made fun of him just because of his looks, as he wasn’t any lesser than they and that wasn’t the way of a Knight at all. 

Ben had found a small grin on his lips when Luke explained to her that nor was such an outburst, but rounded more sternly on the group of perpetrators when they snickered at her admonishment. 

She had sunk to the ground beside him afterwards, still deflated, asking if she might meditate with him. He agreed, but it ended up having far more conversation than silence. Halfway through she blurted “--Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

Taken very much off-guard, he’d asked what she meant, and she awkwardly explained that since she was half Zeltron she could receive emotions from others when they were strong enough, and his were practically tangible. For a brief moment he tried to deny it, but it was hopeless and her knowing, unbelieving smile won out in the end and he admitted slowly that he’d somehow come to this. There was quiet for a moment as he paused, and she asked, “Do you want to know how I feel?” 

He’d nodded tentatively and in seconds was filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest, spreading to his head and shoulders; slightly nervous, but it was overwhelmingly comfortable and he recognized it as something he’d felt time and time again. 

The following weeks were awkward as they danced around each other, but eventually they came to understand each other and now, after a year, they were settling into a familiarity and comfortable existence in the presence of the other, without nervous wracking before every kiss, unsurity in touches, tentativity in action and the misunderstandings that come with a new relationship.

She turned to him as he finished his thought, and blushed under his intense gaze. Her bright smile brought one to his own lips. She stepped forward to him and took his face between her calloused palms. Her smile had yet to fade as she brushed her hands over his ears and across his hair. 

“Master Skywalker still says you'll grow into them?” she hummed. Ben knew of what she spoke and nodded with half a grimace.

“I still love them.” She toyed with this ears with her fingertips, a fond grin turning up a corner of her mouth now. “There is simply more of you to love.” She pressed a kiss to both his cheekbones. “And whether or not you actually do grow into them like he says, I love you.” 

Her kind words warmed his heart and he pulled her in for a sweet kiss. Her smile broke only to return the gesture, and when she pulled back, it returned. 

Suddenly an alarm went off in his mind. Her. She was seventeen. This was a dream, a memory. Before she died, before they fell, before his world collapsed. His dream turned lucid with that realization, and dream-Y/N responded accordingly. 

“About time.” her smile was unchanging and he was acutely aware of her hands resting on his collarbones. “About what you were saying to me earlier...”

“That I should kill you?”

Her laugh was just as intoxicating as always, foreign on his ears as though he hadn’t heard it in years. Which, he thought decidedly, he hadn’t. “No, about what I never gave you.” He blinked and her face aged a decade. A longer scar appeared under her left eye, and her hair lightened a shade. Her eyes hollowed, her pupils seeming somehow blacker, and the dusting of freckles on her cheeks intensified. If it were not for the hollow pain and evident darkness in her gaze, he wouldn't suspect who she had become.

“No one is here,” she preened. “And even if there were, killing them would be easy.” Ben flashed in the back of Kylo’s mind. Was nothing sacred? 

Her hands were on his chest now, dancing over his ribs. He decided this was as good a time as any to indulge; it was a dream, and she was not real. 

But as soon as his hands touched her skin, everything froze. The world went dead silent, and Y/N smiled longingly. 

“It’s too late, now.” her voice morphed, doubling back with a deep, rough tone he didn’t recognize. She pulled off his lap and he found himself unable to move. 

Dream Y/N continued speaking. “You failed to save me, and you failed again today.” The room around them warped, and her eyes went Sith gold. “Jedi or Sith, you have failed. You let the Light tease you, you are unfaithful to the Darkness. You are true to neither, true to none.”

He needed to break out of this, now. He wanted desperately to hate her but as always found he could not. The monster he had become couldn’t take a blow from the Light like what he knew was coming; not so soon after being tempted. He strained his mind to form a weapon in her hand-- his old lightsaber. It would work for him to kill himself, but it would fare better if she did it. Death would awaken him, and by her hand would fuel his anger towards her. 

She came forward and brandished the weapon at his neck. He grinned at her sneer, growling. But the Light had other plans, and weaseled its way into the situation before he could stop it. The longing, loving smile returned to Y/N’s face, and he had to force her hands to keep moving. 

“My beautiful man,” she crooned as his lightsaber drove into his flesh. 

He startled awake, gazing at the darkness around him. Tears pricked at his eyes, and there was a battle raging in his chest for emotional control.

Something needed to win, and he knew what. Something needed to die.

There would be a raid today.


	2. Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop this is a really long four-parter :))

“You cannot truly expect me to be gentle.” 

Y/N shook her head minutely, regretting her decision to come after him again. A wicked grin spread across Ren’s lips. He trailed his fingers across her abdomen, toying with the zipper of her jacket. Y/N watched, unsure of what to think, and feeling a dangerous mix of emotions. She sensed power thrumming in her, so strongly she could feel it physically, a buzz under her skin. Her face wavered and she knew he caught it by the dark chuckle that resonated through the room. 

“After all you have put me through...” he pondered aloud. “It would be a simple matter to dispatch you now. I'm sure the Supreme Leader would be pleased to know I completed my training in this way. You...” His face came dangerously close to hers and she felt in the back of her mind the urge to kiss him. 

“You are an anomaly. An unanticipated victory. But what would make it even sweeter is if I took from you the one last thing you never gave. Especially since you want it so desperately. Who would have guessed that the Darkness was your type?” 

“It isn't,” Y/N protested, although it was admittedly weak. “Ben Solo is.” 

As he pulled back, one gloved hand came up to trace her cheekbone, something painfully familiar. “Ah, but you said he is still here.” He tapped his chest with a finger. “And I am him. Or, a better version of him. Which makes me most certainly  _ your type _ .” 

His last two words were punctuated by his finger tapping her face before it retreated entirely. He stalked behind the chair, and though she could not see him, there was a slight tremor in the Force-- an instability, an unsurety. She reached for it, caught the last few words--  _ but can I trust her? _ \-- before he shut her out and the ripples smoothed. He came back before her. 

“Your skill is surprisingly honed,” he observed. “What were you doing in all that time?”

Suddenly there was an immense pressure on her skull, intense and violating. Her head fell back and she grit her teeth, trying to keep Ren out. 

“Thinking of you,” she ground out, fists flaring as she struggled against her restraints. “Wishing I had not done what I did. Wishing I could kiss you again.” 

The pressure grew impossibly stronger, and his face twisted. “What more?”

Perspiration began to gather on Y/N's brow. She felt Ren’s intrusive presence probe at her memory, and she did her absolute best to be selective in what she allowed through. All the sleepless nights, his smile burned onto her eyelids, the cold breezes on her shoulders, the scent of him slowly fading from his cloak. The phantom touches on her hands and waist, the dreams, the pain...

But he saw something she didn't want. A single moment in time, insignificant to those who didn’t recognize it. Unfortunately Ben was no idiot, and neither was the man he’d become.

“You turned.” He pressed harder, and she cried out in pain, the last of her defenses crumbling.  


“You fell before I did.” Tears gathered on his lashes and he stumbled back, releasing her mind. She breathed heavily, heart racing as she tried to regain her head. Her ragged breath was the only sound that filled the metal room. 

“You are truly a Sith.”

Y/N found herself laughing in the retreating pain. “That would imply any sort of skill or discipline. I have neither.” 

“But you can see into my thoughts, you can keep me from yours.”

Her pounding heart began to steady. “If I could do that, you wouldn't have seen what you just did. I spent those years alone letting the pain of my actions and hatred of myself feed into the Force that ran in my veins. I had no teacher but myself, and that embitterment.” 

“That’s why I couldn't sense you,” Ren realized. “You were unfocused.”

She smiled and lifted her head. “Powerful, yes, but scattered. So have I always been.” 

His eyes met hers once more, though he held the contact this time, and Y/N swore she could see a spark between them. “I didn't lie, though. I spent all of that time missing you desperately. I didn’t know what had happened until you came searching, that time on Alsilore.”

Ren looked like a Biituian fen-hare in the front beams as she continued. “Felt something in the Force. Didn’t know what it was until I heard you barking at some of your shinies. Something about the man in the silver helmet seemed awfully familiar. You moved the same way, sounded the same. Let me tell you, I got out of there so fast the locals were dogging me for weeks after. Eron nearly followed me home, on more than one occasion.” 

“That was you...” he breathed. “I was so close.” 

Silence fell between them for but a moment. “I cannot let you escape this time.” It was decisive, leaving no room for argument, and somehow seeming to convince the both of them of it.

“Darling, do you really think--”

“Don’t call me that!” His hand flew to his saber out of habit, and Y/N pursed her lips, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. His stormy face battled between looking at her and at the ground as he tried apparently to regain some composure. Y/N dared not speak for fear of inciting either his wrath or her own. She knew what she was capable of, to a degree at least, and it wasn't pretty. And despite what Ben had become--  _ who _ he had become-- she couldn’t forget all the tender moments and feelings that had developed between them through the years they spent together. She wondered in that moment how he had come to this.

_ Empires fall in a day, _ she thought ruefully. She knew all too well the temptation of the darkness, the outlet it promised. She knew how desperate one could become under the arduous strain of all the pain and anger that her disorder caused. She had dealt with it violently. Perhaps he felt something similar. Guilt turned her blood cold as she recalled her promise and his determination, and what he only must have felt when she died. She was reminded that she was at fault behind this. 

By now Ren had managed to find some foothold on his emotions. Y/N both marveled and wondered at it; he was a Sith, and by now she knew his temper was one to be reckoned with. How he had managed not to and why he even tried holding himself back was beyond her. She watched him steady his breathing and look up to her, holding the eye contact they made. Her mind went blank as she looked at his hauntingly familiar features, skipping across his cheekbones and tracing his nose with her gaze. She noted the freckles on his face and neck, the ones that nearly matched her own, the ones she used to trace with the tips of her fingers like constellations as he lay in peaceful slumber beside her. 

This was the closest they had been in nearly ten years, but the gap between them now felt wider than the entire universe itself. Ten years turned both of them into creatures of the darkness, one more so. Ten years took away the innocence they once held, the trust, the love and peace and wonder that the life around them once gave. The only true beauty Y/N was sure of now was his, but even that was darkened by the path he had chosen. He was no less strikingly beautiful than she recalled him, but his cheeks were more hollow, his eyes bruised from exertion, his mouth turned in a permanent frown. 

That frown remained even when he spoke. “You used to look at me like that.”

It was a simple phrase, but she knew what it meant. He knew the thoughts behind those looks. 

She lingered on his mouth for a moment longer before meeting his gaze again. It was a hazy, dangerous mix of anger and softness, like a demon trying to remember its life and love before damnation. She knew she deserved nothing from him-- fury, recompense, revenge, if anything, for what she had done to him-- but in spite of it she found herself desiring above all else to have Ben back for just a moment; to feel his gentle touch make her skin thrum with internal power, to meet his tender kisses and hear his voice at her ear. 

“I have no love in me.” There he was again, with the words that seemed to be convincing himself as he said them. 

Gambling, she murmured, “Ben does.” 

His eyes flashed and his head turned, breaking their gaze with a deep growl. “I am not him.” 

“And yet I see the man I love every time I look to you.”

Ren scoffed, his lip curling and his dark hair tossing as he jerked his head. “You don’t love me. You loved a weak man, one who was naive and pitiful and fell too easily. He deserved to die.” 

Y/N’s chest twisted. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“That does not mean that you didn’t,” he snarled. “And I suppose it is you I have to thank for this. Without you perhaps I never would have turned.”

  
There. There was weakness, and he caught onto it faster than a mantis on its prey. He stepped closer. 

“Do you know all the pain I suffered? Do you know about the countless sleepless nights, about the weeks of mourning and the guilt that I had not done good enough to save you? Do you know that I thought it was my fault?”

Her gaze fell to the floor and tears gathered on her lashes. She had no response to his words but overwhelming guilt and failure.

“Did you know how much I hated myself for what happened to you?” he continued. This found her words and she leapt back.

“Yes! I know about hating yourself because that is what I have done for twenty years! I know how to blame yourself, and I know the darkness that comes from it because that is all I have known for the last two decades! I wrote it in blood on my wrists, Ben! When I met you again and saw what you had become, when I thought of what I had done to you, I also felt guilt! I felt guilt and pain beyond anything I had already experienced because the actions that I took to keep you safe ended up being the catalyst to your downfall!”

“I had no downfall. I only became better.”

His hot blood clashed with hers, and the room went staticy, making the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck prickle. Power bristled between them so caustically that the metal on her wrists sent shockwaves through her body. She squirmed at it, straining against the braces and making a noise that sounded more feral than human. 

Pure energy thrummed through her ears, made the lights flicker and spark, and the metal chair began to twist. The weak links around her wrists and ankles warped, as did the chair’s painful extensions. Ren watched on from a relatively safe distance, only intervening when her escape seemed imminent.

His way of intervening was the only thing that could do it at this point-- bringing back Ben.

He reached her in two long strides and tried the force, which only made her lash out further as white hot pain made her vision go black. He took a physical approach and touched his hands to either side of her head as gently as he could manage it. Her sea mist eyes flashed as she could see his face again and she very nearly snapped at him, thinking it was another cheap trick to keep her contained. What really did it was when his beautiful, frowny mouth covered hers. 

It froze her in a split instant, halting her rage in its tracks as the one thing she dreamed of saving her unfolded. She blinked in shock for only a moment before returning the gesture, being admittedly desperate. The only thing she could think was oh, God, how good his lips felt on hers finally once more. His gloved palms were as tender as they had ever been, his mouth as loving. But when she began to run out of air, she couldn’t pull away. His lips stayed anchored on hers as her lungs struggled for breath; he pulled back and still she could not take in air. His smile was positively sinister as he stepped back to watch her die.

Her eyes flew open, body lurching forward against twisted restraints that had yet to fail. She took in a drowning man’s breath, legs trembling and perspiration glittering on her brow. Her vision faded in, the black around the edges giving way to her sight. Her legs and the floor seemed in great detail in the blinding light, as did Ren when she lifted her gaze.

He seemed quite possibly taken aback by something in her eyes as they stared each other down for the umpteenth time, Y/N’s head half bowed, until the light dimmed and the intense detail in the room dulled. Pain tightened her skull and churned her stomach, so she closed her eyes and let the tingling in her body run its course, hanging her head lower. 

“Do nightmares like that happen often?”

She snorted. “More or less, for five years. Usually about you, from before.” A short pause in which her voice softened. “I used to never dream.” 

“That’s another thing the Dark Side brings with it,” Ren commented. “Especially when you’re unstable. It can sense the light trying to find you.” 

There was some strange kind of kinship found here. Y/N chose her words carefully, curious as to the true nature of the man before her, but cautious that he might be privy to her intent. She made sure her mental wall was rigid before asking in a tentative voice, 

“How do you deal with it?”

For a couple heart-stopping seconds, he said nothing. He met her eyes, unwavering.

“By doing my duty. I am the most powerful person in the First Order.”

She had a good guess of what that meant. She nodded and pursed her lips, gaze broken. 

“And you?”

Her mouth turned in a grimacing smile. “Same way I always have.”

Ren’s brow was knit for a moment as he searched his memory, and his body stiffened when he remembered. “For ten years?”

She nodded again. “A fleeting refuge, and one of a coward. It served only to strengthen the darkness’s grip.”

There was a long moment of silence between them, and the door blipped, interrupting whatever was to come. Ren donned his helmet once more and turned to it, greeting the Stormtroopers with stony silence. 


	3. Gentle (2/4)

“General Hux wishes to speak with you,” one of them reported. His voice was deep, rumbling, but vaguely recognizable, though she couldn’t place a name.

Ren turned to her, his voice warped now that it was filtered. “This will continue.”

Then he turned and whisked away, black cloak billowing behind him. The Troopers stepped into the room, rifle at ease across their abdomens. A second passed, then another, and one turned to her, speaking in a low voice so it wouldn’t be caught by the surveillance sensors.

“Y/N.”

Her head lifted at her name. “It’s Finn. And Rey. We’re here to break you out.”

That was why his voice sounded so familiar. A smile flashed across her lips for a moment before she fell into his facade. “What do you want?” Her voice was loud and biting.

“Uh... to break you out.” Finn murmured. She shot him a look, mouthed _go with it_ , and he seemed to understand. “Oh, right, right.” He raised his voice to normal volume. “We are here to transfer you to a new cell. The chair is ineffective if you have broken it.”

Y/N tossed her head, a grimace etched onto her face. Finn stepped closer and released her bonds. She stepped down, waiting for the shackles on her hands, feigning a lunge at him. She grinned at his flinch and decided that was enough play acting; whomever might be watching should believe her now. Rey came up on her other side and led her forward and to the left. Finn came up on her other side.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“We couldn’t leave you here,” Rey dismissed.

“When Ren finds out he’ll be livid.”

“We’ll be far away by then.”

“He sensed me before. All I’m bringing with me is danger.”

“Like we aren’t in enough danger anyway," Finn joked, peering down a hallway. “What’s a little more?”

Y/N had nothing to say.

“The Falcon is waiting with Han about a mile out. You’ll need a coat.”

“No. Don’t waste the time. I’ll survive.”

They turned another corner and met another two Troopers. Y/N immediately adopted a deep glare and through the Force pulled Rey and Finn a little closer.

“Where are you going?” One of them questioned.

“A new cell.” Finn responded in a deep voice. “She destroyed the last one.”

“Maximum security is the other way,” the second observed. Finn stalled just as Y/N felt a massive wave in the Force. Uh-oh.

“No time,” Y/N said, and jumped over her handcuffs so her ere forward. She lifted them at both the rival Stormtroopers as best she could, just as the alarm began to blare. They dropped their guns as lack of air blacked them out. She let them go and turned to Finn, holding up her wrists. “Unlock them and get us out of here.”

He did so, and took off. Y/N made sure Rey was ahead of her before following. “Do you have the saber?” she called. Rey pulled the weapon from the empty power case in the back of her false armor and handed it to her. The Light of the saber sent a shockwave through her, made her step and her grip falter for a pace. A moment of _kill them_ flashed through Y/N’s mind, prompted by the child’s blind trust and naivety in handing someone like her a weapon like this. She dismissed it with a growl and focused her anger on the other Stormtroopers, tightening her hand. With a couple powerful pumps of her legs she overcame the two with her.

“Take off your helmets!” she barked. “I won’t be able to tell who I’m killing otherwise!”

There were two clunks as the armor dropped. Y/N ignited the lightsaber and twirled it, getting a feel for the hilt. The blue light seemed hauntingly familiar in her vision, and she held nothing back as they charged forward.

Finn yelled directions at her as he and Rey shot down whomever was left in her wake. In a few short minutes they were outside, and Y/N turned briefly to block the fire of plasma as they retreated. The cold air bit at her skin, but she grit her teeth and continued without slowing. Halfway there and seemingly the second that she turned back around, a blast singed the bones of her calf, then another found its mark in her shoulder. The cold had numbed half of her legs, but she cried out and stumbled. She blocked the next shot, killing its source, and Finn and Rey were on her in a heartbeat. She grit her teeth harder and did her best to get to the Falcon, freezing and wounded but determined to make it. The boarding ramp lowered and Chewie appeared upon it. They were almost there, now...

“Don’t let them escape!”

It was faint, now, as the distance between them grew, but Y/N knew who was speaking. She turned on Ren, falling out of Rey and Finn’s grips.

“Come and get me, Ren!”

“No, no, no, Y/N, bad idea,” Finn rambled as he and Rey pulled her back towards the ship before she had taken even half a dozen steps. The pain in her leg and shoulder and the biting chill fueled the fire of rage in her chest, and she roared, feeling her left leg fail beneath her. The strong ex-stormtrooper on that side held the weight for her, and shouted forward.

Y/N’s struggling was beginning to gain the upper hand towards her freedom, until furry arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her up.

“No, Chewbacca, put me down!”

The Wookie simply roared at her that no, he wasn’t going to do that, and she better shut up.

The lightsaber was still in her hands, and the darkness was beginning to overtake what light there was left. She ignited it again and raised it with both hands over her head, prepared to bury the blade between the Wookie’s shoulder blades without a second thought. A shot from a blaster stopped her, striking the saber and making her drop it to the snow with a cry as the heated metal hilt burned her hands. Rey lowered her pistol. Not a moment later Y/N was being walked up the ramp, saving one last glare towards Kylo.

The Millennium Falcon was like a desert compared to outside. She was thrown haphazardly onto a couch as Chewie joined Han in the cockpit. The saber was on Rey’s belt, but no one was safe until she was restrained.

“Lock me up!” she ordered harshly. The two in front of her stood still. She repeated herself, snapping at them. Thank God Han knew what she meant and yelled from the cockpit the spare room was still bare. She stumbled back to it, ignoring her wounds, and loosed a feral roar when the door slid shut and locked behind her, until her lungs hurt. She lunged at the walls, at anything. Spare scraps of metal warped and flew around the room as she released her rage upon anything she could see. In the whirlwind they created, some sliced at her skin, but she welcomed that. The numbness around her extremities began to fade, making way for searing pain. When her voice sounded this time it was not rage but pain that caused it.

Pain overcame the anger and filled the space it left behind. The open wounds on her body sent an excruciating sensation through her. Her left leg held weakly as she took a long breath and bottled what rage was left. The room was finally calm, but for her violently shaking body and clouded mind. She braced herself heavily in the doors and pressed the com after blinking the blurriness from her vision.

“It’s safe,” she breathed, her voice hoarse and unsteady. “Got a little shot up out there and I’d appreciate living another day, I think.”

A couple seconds later, footsteps approached and she put all her weight on her left arm and right leg, leaning on the com unit. She looked up weakly as the doors hissed open and crumpled into the person who had come for her.


	4. Gentle (3/4)

“Stand up, Y/N,”

She tried to scramble away from Ren.

“How did you get in?!”

A wicked grin split his perfect mouth. “I told you before, I am the most powerful person in the First Order.” She broke from his grip and stumbled backwards, her back slamming against the side of a metal corridor.

The wall supported her where her body failed as Ren locked her in his gaze. Her back slid down the rough metal and he approached as she sank to the ground. He crouched before her, brushing her damp hair back after removing his glove.

“One day you're going to do some serious damage,” he informed her, his voice seeming to double back on itself as he said it. His palm was cool against her burning face, and she resisted closing her eyes against the feeling. She simply scoffed but said nothing.

“You need a teacher,” he said softly, his hand trailing down to brace her neck. “All your power cannot be wasted.”

“Wasted,” Y/N echoed quietly.

“Come with me. I can guide you.”

“What guide is there in the dark but a light?” She challenged. “All you will teach me is to let my emotions run rampant; something they already do! Ben was my light in the dark. I have my own way of the Force.”

Ren’s face drew closer. “Ben’s light is but an illusion. He is gone, now, and you know that. Let me guide your steps in the Force. You cannot hope to be great if you have no discipline.”

“I don't want to be powerful,” she snarled back. “I want only to survive.”

“And I want only you.”

She was taken aback by this. Ren’s lips curled into a sad smile. Y/N readjusted her hands to steady her better and whacked something. Her fingers explored it briefly as she thought it to be a handhold, but soon found it was Luke’s lightsaber. Ren noticed, glanced down.

“She died protecting you, you know.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in panic, and he nodded his head in the direction of the corridor. Y/N looked over to see Rey sprawled on the ground, a slash across her face and a round saber wound piercing her chest above her heart. Y/N choked back a cry, her eyes finding Finn also struck down beside her, hand still curled around his blaster and innocent eyes glazed toward the ceiling.

Y/N’s hand tightened around the saber and she pulled it closer as her gaze went cold and turned back to Kylo Ren. He was watching her face, half of it Ben, and half of it him.

“I'm afraid if I cannot have you, no one will.”

This piqued Y/N’s emotions and she pulled the saber into her lap and ignited it. The sapphire blue blade pierced his abdomen, vaporizing good portions of vital organs. She felt a searing hollowness in her own stomach as well and realized there was a red glow on his twisted face with the blue.

“It seems as though we had the same idea.” She looked down to see his crossblades searing her clothes, the red blade buried to the hilt in her flesh.

“A pity,” were his last words as his saber turned off and he slumped forward onto her. She could feel his body growing colder, taking her own heat with it. She couldn't feel pain anymore, only her breath slowing down, crushed by his weight. She didn't realize she was crying until cold tears fell down her cheeks. She dropped the lightsaber in her hands and wrapped her arms around his lifeless body, sobbing that she could not save anyone as her energy quickly faded.


	5. Gentle (4/4)

She woke on the same couch she was tossed onto earlier, for the second time that day jerking awake with an intense inhale. Her shoulder was tight with bandages, and her leg was wrapped as well. Startled by her sudden rise, Finn and Rey jumped in their respective seats. Y/N closed her eyes, leaned back, and released a long breath of relief at their living reactions. 

Pain throbbed through her entire body, and she let the light accept and dismiss it. 

“Good morning,” Han said from his seat. “Or, is it bad morning? Do Sith even sleep?” 

She shot him a sharp glare. “You're still bitter?”

“You're still you, and the past hasn't changed, so yes, I'm still bitter."

Y/N released a long breath through her nose. He had every right to be resentful over what she did. She closed her eyes. “They didn't follow?” 

“No. Didn't make any move to.”

She had nothing more to say, and let the ship fall into relative silence. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she knew better than to try sorting through them. They always ended in the same place and she had the scars to prove it. 

Subconsciously she ran her hand over her right forearm, only taking notice of what she was doing when she realized she could feel the soft, scarred skin, and not the cool leather of her jacket. 

“Where did those come from?” Rey inquired. Y/N knew she meant it innocently; the child had lived on her own without much exposure to the trials of life such as she had experienced. She felt a pang through her heart as she looked down at the years of unhealthy self-medicating. Part of her considered being cryptic and eluding, but she knew well enough that Rey had been exposed to far more of that than she needed, or deserved. 

“From a feeling I hope you never experience,” she said bluntly. “From my own hands.”

The silence that reigned this time was heavy, nearly choking. None of the group said anything for a good while. 

“Thanks for patching me up.” She said suddenly, directed generally at no one. 

Finn nodded. “No problem.”

“And sorry for being an ass, Chewie.”

The Wookie grunted. 

“And, you know, while the mood is in the gutters, sorry to all of you. For all the future damage I’m bound to do. It won't be fair to any of you, and although at the time I'll likely be immune to reason and may try to murder you, I’m sorry.” 

Han in particular shifted at this. Rey was the one who spoke up. 

“We’re here to help you, Y/N. We’re friends.”

She sighed deeply. "I hope."


	6. A/N

I fixed some little errors that got skimmed over in the publishing process; Han gets a whole entire line out of it :O ! 

There's a fluffy bit in the works- this has been so damn sullen so far. 

On a not-so-melancholy note, the feedback I've been getting has been absolutely fantastic. The number of hits alone is enough to make me a little starstruck, and the actual comments I've received both on Ao3 and my tumblr have brought me nearly to happy tears. Thanks from all my little nerd 8-bit hearts to all who've contributed, be it through comments or kudos or notes or telepathic good vibes :). 

Keep reading and I will keep writing, I promise you that. :-)

If you'd like to know a little more about me and my posting habits, check it out here (http://causticintention.tumblr.com/post/137106341549/). 

May the Force be with you <3

-Sol


	7. Sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. I'm still in the process of tying together all the pieces that my brain has cranked out in sporadic moments of inspiration, so this may seem a little off-kilter, but I wanted to give y'all something, at the least.
> 
> Apologies for being so absent of late-- finals' week was the once just past and that took up most of my time. I absolutely adore this story, however, and have no intent of abandoning it so soon! Responsibilities in my everyday life take precedence, but I promise I have not forgotten this and do continue to work on and improve it :)
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is more than welcome; I want nothing more than to know what you think of the good, the bad, and the ugly of my writing, so maybe do a little typing of your own down in the little white box! It's just so lonely...

Sometimes it was hard.

Sometimes Rey’s light was so blinding she couldn’t take it. Sometimes Finn was so kind that it hurt her. Sometimes Poe was so selfless she felt as though she would collapse.

It had been nearly six months since Ben had revealed his plan to betray Snoke and assist the rebellion. Y/N had responded violently, at first, more so than even she expected to. Then she had avoided him for weeks. She knew it was ribald, indignant, even, but even as much as she loved him, she felt somehow betrayed. It was strange-- if anything, she should probably be relieved, that he was no longer an enemy and she didn’t have to sit through briefing after briefing over how to take care of the obstacle that was him. She no longer had to live in an air of malaise over the decision that would have to be made should they ever meet-- and how she would deal with his death by her hand if it came to it.

But eventually, as always seemed to happen, all of her overthinking was overthrown by the idea of _him_. After three weeks, she finally spoke to him again, and he was there to welcome her back. It would never be the same as it was more than ten years ago, but Y/N felt that if all they had been through had done anything, it was strengthen their bond.

And those sometimes, when she started to see red, when that part of her begged for something’s life, he would be there. His warm hands would curl around her smaller ones, his strong arms would take her into his chest, his fingers would smooth her ruffled feathers as they brushed over her hair. His new Light bled into her and into the darkness that held her soul much tighter than it did his, and chased away the .

And he was there, always. It seemed as though whenever she turned in one direction, the darkness was there, leaping at her willpower like a beast against the bars, all she need do was turn around, and in the other direction was him. A safe haven, a shield against her past. No matter how bleak it became, Ben was there to comfort her, to chase back the pain and ire, and bring color back to her world.

It was stupid, came the sardonic taunt of the darkness. She couldn’t even save herself; this other being of just as much Sith had to be her saving grace. He held not only his own burden but hers as well.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t have his own haunting memories, either. His patience still ran thin, and the scar across his face was a stark reminder of the place he’d taken himself to. The absence of his father and the looks he still got from some of the Resistance men stung, and she knew it. She had gotten some looks herself, heard some comments concerning why she’d let him into her life, after all that had happened. She had searched for an answer herself and come up with naught but vague justifications.

They had taken a step in the right direction, but they were a long ways from a happy ending.

But, truly, with Ben beside her once more, they would get there. Y/N held this hope sincerely. She had let him suffer alone, and she would never let it happen again.

It was then that the door slid open to reveal the man himself. His smile was like a beam straight from the sun, and she found herself returning it. His kiss was as sweet as ever she remembered, and his voice smoothed the choppy waves within her.

  
With him, she’d be okay.

 _They_ would be okay.


End file.
